


All the Things

by A13urdoch



Series: The body, The Mind, The Heart [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A13urdoch/pseuds/A13urdoch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first time writing any sort of fan fiction.<br/>This is just after the end of The Reichenbach Fall. <br/>This is the first of three I plan to write.<br/>I hope someone likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John walked away from the graveyard, looking at his shoes. Thinking about what he said, what he should have said, what he will never be able to say again, when a sudden, sharp pain happened upon his back. The ground coming closer, John could only think, "please let this be it."

Cold water was the next thing he felt. Waking with a start, dripping wet and freezing cold, unable to see through a fog of his own making.  
"Where is he?" And unrecognisable but familiar voice asked. It was almost a growl, but not quite as it was a modulated voice.   
Shaking himself out of his clouded mind, he grunted softly as a breeze reaffirmed the coolness of the water on Johns skin.  
"Where is he?!" The voice repeated, ever so slightly angry.  
"Wh-who?" John knew exactly who but a second figure was coming behind the first. The figure seemed a saviour, John could not tell why he felt safer with this stranger in the room, he just did.  
"Sherlock Holmes."  
"Who's asking?" John asked, biding his time with the adrenaline rush that had kicked the fight button in his head.  
Still not able to identify the attacker, John flicked through all the people he knew, all the people he had heard by name from his late best friend (who, incidentally, he wished would swoop in and save him right about now) and all the people he could think would hold a grudge against him and his companion.  
Moriarty? Mycroft? Who could it be?  
Pushing through the last of the self-induced fog, John focused on the antagonist before him.  
A short person, wearing black from head-to-toe, a balaclava shielded the individuals identity and a collar with a manipulator on it.  
But, John did not have too much longer to think on who this person might be.  
The adversary lifted his head slightly and fell to the floor, Johns eyes watching him the whole way down.  
Not looking up to see who his saviour was, he felt a pull on the ropes that bound his hands together.  
"Run," said a familiar but impossible voice from behind him.  
"Run," the voice whispered again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter wondering who this man could be?

Not thinking about it John took quick and long strides towards a door with daylight pouring out of it.  
The guards at the door, or at least John thought they were guards, were lying on the ground as if they had been knocked out.  
John kept running - after making sure the guards were alive - toward a car park with only one car in it. The car beeped, unlocking with a thud. The figure that had saved him ran past him and called for John to get in.  
Still a little disoriented , he thought for only a second about trusting the man getting into the drivers side.  
"Come on, John!" The deep voice was soothing to John after this horrible week just past.  
As John got into the passengers seat, the car sped off to a small road. John stared curiously at his rescuer, wondering how he came to be so named. How he was here at all.  
"I'll explain when I get you back home," the driver said answering the questions that had not been asked. "There is so much to tell you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But why is he here?

Arriving at 221b Baker Street, John stepped out of the car in a bit of a daze as he watched is hero open the door to the apartment as if it were his.  
And it was.  
John sat down in his chair, watching as the tall, thin man make tea. He thought about what he said, what he should have said and what he may be able to say now.  
Taking the cup of tea from Sherlocks hand, John stared as he sat down.  
The ice blue eyes (that John had missed so much) watching him, te slender fingers gripping the cup, the dark curls staying in place as his sharp, high cheekbones and wondrous and over-used lips disappear behind the tea cup. John took a sip and waited impatiently, with a blank face and too many questions in his eyes.   
Sherlock looked like he was trying to word something in his head (a strange look for Sherlock to have). His eyes never letting go of Johns.  
"You're alive?" John could not hold back any longer.  
"Yes."  
"Wh-ho-wha-why would you do this to me? To everyone?" John could not help his eyes filling with tears.  
"To protect you. And the others," he tacked on the end.  
"From what?" Slightly angry, John could not manage to keep his from cracking.  
"My enemies."  
"Why did you come back?"  
Sherlock turned his mouth up a bit. Almost a smile but not quite.  
"Why do you think?"  
"You got bored," John stated quite curtly. "Who was that...person you saved me from?"  
"I don't know," he replied, finally breaking the eye contact to look at the fire place. "Whoever it was, they knew I wasn't dead," he said, almost to himself. "And they knew how to find me."  
"I need to lie down," John said rubbing his eyes.  
Sherlock looked up, apologetically and understandingly. Or at least as close to those emotions as Sherlock could get, though John.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mind, the body and the heart  
> A dream, an action and a deduction.
> 
>  
> 
> * A small warning:  
> If you are "homophobic" (if you are: you evil bastard, get over it!), there is one incidence of kissing.   
> Also a warning to people who have actually been kissed, I had not and have only seen it and heard about it so...

When John woke up it was well into the night. He did not mean to fall asleep but the shocks of the day were too great, he even had his blanket over him.  
But he didn't pull that up.  
Sherlock was leaning on the doorframe watching John sleep.  
"Sherlock?"  
"John."  
"What are you doing?"  
"Thinking," he said dazed.  
"About?" Johns thoughts were clouded from the thick fog of sleep. He tried to get up but Sherlock pressed his hand to Johns chest to make sure he did not.  
"Dreams and nightmares," he replied.  
"I just had a dream," John stated, trying to recall what he had just witnessed in his subconscious. "And a nightmare."  
"I know."  
"I suppose you know why about too." John said, slightly anxious.  
"Yes."  
**********  
John was sitting in a field of daisies and lavender with his sister, Harry. They were making daisy chains like they used to when their parents took them to the countryside. The surrounding forest was full of beauty and butterflies and babbling brooks. And then it morphed.  
The forest transfigured into areas of England only recognisable to John. There was Belgravia, Northumberland street, so many rooftops, even Dewer's Hollow. And beside John no longer sat his older sibling, but Sherlock Holmes. They were in the sitting room in their apartment drinking tea as the always did, with all the places staring at them.  
John could not help himself (it was a dream after all). He, and the dream-Sherlock, stood up, embraced his best friends face in his hands and leaned up an in to kiss him. He felt so relieved, like nothing was ever going to go wrong again.  
But then, the dream turned black. There stood John, alone on a lonely road, looking up at a tall, white building with Sherlock standing on top of it. He watches him fall.  
All around him, John feels the nothingness of a pulse that is not there and feels as if all the happiness he had ever felt in his life was gone. Forever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After 3 years, finally. A second and third deduction is made by the end if this chapter and then I'll leave to stew for a little bit.
> 
>  
> 
> *Another small warning (the same one actually):  
> If you are "homophobic" (if you are: you evil bastard, get over it!), there is another incidence of kissing.  
> Also, a warning to people who have actually kissed and been kissed, I have not and have only seen it and heard about it so... Yeah, 16 and never been kissed (I'm sure I'll be a virginal bride if I ever get there)

"This wasn't the first time you've had this dream." One of those questioning statements that Sherlock has always been good at. John nods and gets to his feet. In two strides he is an inch away from Sherlock.  
Thinking about all the things he said, all the things he should have said sooner and all te things he could say now.I'll start with this, thought John.   
"I love you," he whispered before he kissed Sherlock passionately, the same passion he had in his dream.  
His hand reaching up to the dark curls slightly tugging as he hugs Sherlock closer. The other hand on the small of the detectives back.  
Sherlock, a man of mind, could not help but yield to his bodies human urges.  
Sherlocks slight, but strong, arms crushed John closer to him, as if there's was too much space between them.  
Their minds took back control of their bodies and try pulled back simultaneously. John flushed red as he broke out of Sherlocks grip wondered why he had done that.   
"Oh!" Sherlocks face showed he had remembered or discovered or deduced something. The momentary lapse into human impulse have his mind a moment to breathe.  
"What? What 'oh'?" John was confused and a little self-conscious as the consulting detective had the face on. The face he has on when he thinks both of them know what is going on when only one of them do.  
"I know who did it. Who wanted to know where I was. Who knew I was still alive," Sherlock hurried out of the room and down the stairs. "Get dressed!"  
"Where are we going?" John called downstairs, disconcerted by the sudden exit.  
"To catch a kidnapper!" Sherlock yelled as excitedly as a child on the way to the zoo.


	6. Chapter 6

Sitting beside Sherlock in the cab, John was waiting for an explanation as to where and why they were going. Sherlock sat silently, obviously thinking on something quite hard.  
"Why did you do it?" John was still wondering what could have made Sherlock fake his own death and lie about the existence of Moriarty. Johns thoughts could not -or would not- focus.  
"Do what?" Pulled out of deep thought, Sherlock looked suddenly very tired.  
"What's wrong?" John queried, pretending he had not said anything. Worried about the look on his friends face, Johns brows knitted together.  
"Why would she do it? What possible reason could he have?" Sherlock leaned in closer, keeping eye contact.   
"She?" Maybe, thought Kohn, he thinks the answer is somewhere in his eyes?  
At that moment, the cab pulled to a stop out the front of the hospital.  
Lestrade was there. He seemed to be waiting for someone. When he saw John get out of the can his face was not surprised to see him but a little bit worried. Lestrade walked towards John taking large steps but, fell short when he saw the second figure coming to stand next to John.  
"Wha-ho-wh-how are you...?" Lestrade could jot finish his sentence and almost crumpled under his own weight. He caught himself before he hit the ground. His face became the stern look one would expect from a lawman such as Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.  
"Why are you here, Greg?" John asked?  
"You texted means asked me to meet you here," replied Lestrade.  
"No I didn't." And both turned to look at the formerly deceased Mr. Holmes.  
"Sorry, but we needed an officer to help us with the arrest," Sherlock informed the questioning pairs of eyes.  
"Whose arrest?" Simaltaneously said.  
"Molly Hooper."


End file.
